The Midnight Watch

Chapter 37

The gates were open.

I could see a chink of sunlight streaming into the court — a slice of gold across the grass. And if I took a step forward from my post beside the door, I would be able to see the Shadowcat delegation which cast such a long shadow into that light. Isaiah and his most capable minions would still be harassing the bridge, but he had left behind a sizable force to protect his daughter and Kai's siblings.

And that force was now marching into our shiny new fortress for safe keeping. They weren't being quiet about it: the stamping of boots on tiles formed the tempo to my watch. It was a warm day, too. I could feel sweat trickling down my back and hear the low buzz of flies.

If I listened carefully, I could hear the exchange between Kai and the Instructor. But I resisted that temptation as much as possible, because my task was to guard the room — to stop eavesdroppers, not become one myself.

The gist of the conversation was obvious, though. There was an unmistakable drop in tone as the meeting came to a close, then the door swung inwards on oiled hinges. I stopped slouching to stand to attention as the Instructor stepped onto the balcony and let the door close behind him.

There was something blatantly wrong. His eyes were wide and wandering, his mouth hung slightly ajar.

"Sav," he said ponderously. "Sav, yes. I don't think I ...."

"Are you alright?" I interrupted, casting a sneaking glance at the oak-studded double doors. What could Kai have possibly said? We were winning. The fortress was ours. The skeleton guard were readying Evarlin against an assault which I was beginning to doubt would ever come.

The Instructor shook his head. "Oh, no. I'm terrific, actually. You know what he's gone and done?"

I waited expectantly, and his mouth stretched into a hesitant smile.

"He's made me Commander! Me, of all people! I can't think why, because I don't have an ounce of experience as a leader. No, you see, Eira Llewellyn led my patrol back in the day — and rightly so. Then Peyton after her."

Oh. Personally, I couldn't fault that choice: he was respected; he certainly had a flair for leadership, even if he didn't realise it; and he could be trusted. I told him truthfully, "I think you'll do just fine, sir."

"You do? Well, thank you, I suppose." He shook his head once again, this time in disbelief, then clasped my arm. "And thank you for keeping that boy alive. Truth be told, I've grown rather fond of him. Of all of you."

Then he left, rather unceremoniously, leaving me smiling to myself in a surprised, pleased sort of way. And I realised that, after all this time, I didn't even know his name.

I settled back to the boredom of standing perfectly still. Kai didn't really need guarding — because his cousin was with him, but I didn't have anything better to do. And this was my job, after all.

The door swung open again, and Kai slipped out before I could even turn my head. He flashed me a weary smile as he walked to the railing and sat down. Because we were on a balcony. It wasn't our balcony, but nostalgia welled up anyway.

He tapped the ground beside him. I sat down too, letting my legs hang over the empty space. I must have grown, because I nearly couldn't fit between the rails anymore. And maybe it was my imagination, but I could have sworn my shoulder rested higher on Kai's arm.

"Rhys?" I asked quietly.

His smile was wry. "I told him to take a nap, but we both know that isn't going to happen."

"And the regency?"

Kai's shrug betrayed every ounce of concern. Because if his cousin didn't agree, we were back to square one. I tried to think outside of the box without straying too far from reason. Kai needed a regent, and Rhys wouldn't stay long enough to fill the role. That easily, the solution presented itself.